Kiss Then Tell
by freakess360
Summary: While on the hunt for a female serial killer the team sets up an undercover operation with Esposito as bait. But things don't go exactly as planned when the killer targets and kidnaps Ryan instead. COMPLETE. Non-explicit mentions of rape. /OC


**Title: **_Kiss Then Tell_

_**Summary:**_ While on the hunt for a female serial killer the team sets up an undercover operation with Esposito as bait. But things don't go exactly as planned when the killer targets and kidnaps Ryan instead. Non-explicit mentions of rape. /OC

_A/N: _**I am really excited to finally put out my first **_**Castle**_** short story. Valerie Vancollie, a true literary genius, devised this story line/plot****. I simply converted her idea into the **_**Castle**_** universe and added all the final details.**

**I have always loved the character Kevin Ryan and enjoyed reading stories about him and Javier Esposito so much. But watching the show I noticed that you never see enough Kevin/Javier whump, the aftermath of injuries, or any real hospital scenes. So naturally I had to have my story include all these! Also I wanted to focus on Kevin and Javier's unique friendship and add new dimensions of character development I feel the show leaves out. So, without further adieu, I give you **_Kiss Then Tell__**.**_

*This story is set during season 4, before episode 11.

_**Characters:**_ Kate Beckett, Javier Esposito, Kevin Ryan, Richard Castle, Roy Montgomery, Jenny O'Malley, and Olivia Scout (my OC; minor role)

_Disclaimer:__**Castle**_**, nor any of its characters, are owned by me.**

_Warning:_** This story deals with rape on a non-explicit level.**

* * *

Detective Kevin Ryan took a sip of his drink as he covertly scrutinized the darkened club. The music was deafening. It pounded hard and fast, encouraging the club's occupants to wildly dance to and fro on it's crowed dance floor. Every once and a while fake smoke hissed out from concealed nozzles throughout the club, adding a foggy and colorful edge to the atmosphere as the flashing, hypnotic lights reflected off of the haze. At the far end of the room, away from the bar and tables, a live band played to the roaring approval of the audience. Kevin would have visibly grimaced at both the beat and the lyrics if he weren't trying to blend in with the crowd near the bar at the edge of the dance floor.

When he'd finished his scan of the room, Kevin's eyes automatically sought out his partner, Javier Esposito. The Hispanic detective was on the dance floor - drink in hand - dancing with yet another girl.

"_Is she wearing the right lipstick?_" said Captain Roy Montgomery over the earpiece Kevin wore. The question was hardly audible over the song – if you could even call it that.

Kevin watched as Javier raised his drink higher, a negative response.

"There's no guarantee she'll be here tonight," Kevin said into the microphone taped to his wrist under his silk, royal blue, long-sleeved shirt. He disguised the motion by raising his own glass to his lips and pretending to take a sip.

"_If she follows all previous patterns she'll strike again tonight at this club_," Richard Castle stated, his voice almost fading after a particularly strong burst of static. "_Plus with the way Esposito is dressed and is acting, she should go for him_."

"And if we're wrong?" Kevin replied.

"_It is probable, but there is a 93% chance it's the most likely course of events_."

"Castle," Kevin sighed. "What did I say about making up statistics?"

"_To leave it to math teachers and government officials._"

"Exactly."

And, with that being said, Kevin turned to watch Javier dance his way to the edge of the dance floor before making his way over to the bar. Kate Beckett and Lanie Parish had dressed Javier based on what all the previous victims had worn. Afterward, one of the Department's best forgery artists had painted a fake Special Forces tattoo on his bicep. Combined with his dog tags and the right attitude, Javier Esposito seemed to transform into an arrogant military bastard – the chosen victims of what the New York media had come to dub as the "Kiss Then Tell Killer". This apt name was given due to her fondness of sending letters and photos of her victims to all the major media outlets. Instead of a signature, she signed the letters with a kiss. The kiss was distinguishable by its decadent plum color, a Sensational Matte Color by _Lancôme_. With the entire DNA collected from these "Lipstick Letters" and the dark hair samples found at the crime scenes, the NYPD would be able to lock the killer up forever once they caught her, something that had proven more difficult than originally expected.

The case had first come to the Department's attention in Queens when the private security team monitoring a string of clubs – Club Moka, Club Cache, and Club Glazz – had asked for help with what they suspected to be a serial rapist and killer stalking patrons of their clubs. The NYPD's Homicide Division had discovered three bodies when the first of the Lipstick Letters were submitted to the media. The Department's psychologist theorized that the killer had started sending them when her work hadn't generated enough media attention on its own. If that was true then the letters had the desired effect. Almost overnight the string of murders had become a national headline. There was something about the combination of a female serial killer who managed to lure, drug and rape highly trained military personnel that caught the public's attention. But the attention was obviously not enough to make people stay clear of the clubs where the killer hunted and drugged her prey.

Behind the counter undercover Detective Olivia Scout mixed Javier's drink, carefully making it look alcoholic. Looking over, Kevin locked eyes with Kate Beckett who was also behind the bar. It was their job to provide all of the undercover detectives and officers with drinks so they wouldn't draw any unwarranted attention to themselves by abstaining. The two detectives also kept an eye on the drinks Javier had at the bar, spying to see if they could catch anyone trying to slip anything extra into it. All of the previous victims had been heavily drugged with Rohypnol to make them pliant and controllable. From the lack of defensive wounds on their bodies it appeared that none of them had realized what had happened until it was far too late. But it fit the victim profile. The victims viewed themselves as invincible and womanizing. So why wouldn't a, presumably, beautiful woman be attracted to them? They also were exactly the type of men who was completely unable to imagine that someone _could_, let alone would, rape them.

Before his drink was even finished Javier was already flirting with a new woman. Kevin observed Olivia give the source of the detective's focus a quick discerning glance as she handed the Hispanic his drink and accepted the cash tossed her way. Olivia was currently on loan from the Narcotics Division because of her previous background as a bartender. When the NYPD had confirmed the M.O. of the murderer, and that the Lipstick Letters that had turned up in the hands of the media were connected directly to the murders, Olivia volunteered for undercover work. Already their killer had managed to claim five victims before Castle had somehow accidently discovered a hidden pattern in the killer's seemingly random choice of clubs and dates. With any luck, they'd be able to prevent her from claiming any additional victims tonight.

"You look lonely. Want some company?"

It took Kevin a moment to realize the comment had been directed at him – but when he finally did, he turned around and found a stunning woman on the other side of the small table he'd claimed as his own. Automatically, he noted that she had black hair and wore a licentious plum lipstick, but so had another women he'd flirted with earlier.

"How could I refuse the company of such a beautiful woman?" said the detective, giving her one of his very best smiles.

The Irish-man shifted slightly, from his new position he could easily keep track of Javier as he returned to the dance floor while appearing to give the woman all of his attention.

The woman placed an impossibly small handbag on the table next her own, but more fruity, drink. She lazily draped her arms into the table's glossy surface and seductively nibbled her lower lip. "Are you here alone?" she inquired, lightly toying with her hair.

"Alas, yes," Kevin sighed dramatically. He quirked his eyebrow and gazed at the woman. "How about you? Surely you must have a boyfriend."

"I did until two weeks ago… I dumped him when I caught him cheating one of my friends."

"The jerk obviously couldn't see how lucky he was."

"_All positions, check in_," Montgomery suddenly ordered via the earpiece.

Kevin ignored his captain and kept flirting. The detective found it strangely difficult to focus on the woman, Javier, and all the different responses from the various officers and detectives scattered about the club who were ready to come to Javier's aid the moment the murderer made a move on him.

"_Ryan, you there?_" questioned Montgomery. "_Anyone got eyes on him?_"

"_Yeah, he's fine_," Beckett announced. "_He's busy with yet another girl._"

"_Kevin, you dog_," Castle teased. "_What will I tell Jenny?_" he asked, referring to Kevin's fiancé.

These words, even made in jest, caused a flare of annoyance within Kevin. But he suppressed it the feeling and forced himself to follow what the woman was saying.

"_He's got a good view of Javier_," Olivia defended over the earpiece. "_Besides, they've been approaching Ryan, not the other way around. I told you those leather pants would be trouble_."

Taking a sip from his drink was all Kevin could do to suppress a smirk that was growing on his face. He had observed how Olivia had checked him out before she'd left the precinct take her shift at the club. Even when he had been putting on his wire he was hyperaware of all the appreciative glances he'd received from many female officers who were surprised to see him in something other than a suit and tie. And at the club it hadn't been any different; women kept approaching him. If Kevin wasn't undercover, or engaged, he would love all the attention but tonight it was just irritating. It had been a while since he'd last worn leather and he'd forgotten how nice it felt. That, combined with his blue, silk shirt, Kevin felt very comfortable. He'd have to see if he could conveniently 'forget' to change after the operation before going home to see if Jenny appreciated it too.

"Are you even listening to me?" the woman commanded crossly.

"Huh? Sure, of course I am."

"Then what's the last thing I said?" But she didn't even give him a chance to respond. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Asshole."

"Hey!" Kevin protested.

Watching her storm off, Kevin realized he'd somehow gotten lost in his thoughts, losing track of not only the conversation, but of Javier and the entire operation as well. A quick glance towards the dance floor caused a small burst of panic when he didn't immediately spot his partner. After a moment or two the Irish-man finally spotted Javier dancing a little closer to the stage than he had been with not one but two women who appeared be minors. A wave of relief rushed over he body but it was short-lived. Kevin frantically tried to recall what had occurred. When he did he was briefly thankful that the music was loud enough to drown out any of the actual conversation he had had. Luckily no one could hear Kevin speaking unless he spoke directly into the microphone on his wrist. He never would hear the end of it if the team had overheard the parting words of the woman. Castle, especially, would have a field day.

Kevin blinked slowly, trying to concentrate on the here and now. He normally never drifted off like that while on the job, and especially not in the middle of an undercover operation.

In an effort to calm down and compose himself, Kevin gulped down the rest of his drink and stepped away from the table. He intended to do a quick circuit of the dance floor and before checking in with Kate at the bar. Instead, he staggered backwards and bowled into a guy carrying a handful of shots.

"Hey! Watch it!"

"S'rry," Kevin replied, stunned to hear the slur in his own voice.

The man sent him a dirty look before walking over to his friends a few tables down. Kevin ignored swear words that were thrown his way by people he bumped into as he desperately tried to walk toward the crowded dance floor. However, the detective found it exceedingly difficult. His mind seemed sluggish and lazy. He didn't have anything alcoholic to drink – none of the officers did because they needed to maintain their cover and stay sharp for when their killer made her move. So then why did Kevin feel like he had seriously overindulged?

The pieces slowly started to click together as he noticed Javier walking back towards the bar again. His Hispanic partner had been careful not to get too many drinks from the bar so he could still believably be able to stay on his feet. This meant that Kevin had spaced out for far longer than he'd realized.

"Hey, Gorgeous, are you okay?"

Again it took a moment for Kevin to realize the question was directed at him. And, when he turned to look at the female inquirer, he staggered sideways drunkenly.

"Whoa! Careful," she said as she reached out and slipped her arms around his waist to steady him. She then turned to the woman he had nearly bumped into."Sorry. My boyfriend has had a bit too much to drink."

"N't your b-boyf'end," Kevin indigently slurred.

Now there was fear blossoming in his chest, but is seemed strangely dull and removed, as if it belonged to someone else. In fact, everything was starting look hazy and unreal. The slurred speech, the balance impairment, the inability to focus clearly, and the dulling of emotions all fit the symptoms of someone drugged with Rohypnol, the killer's drug of choice.

"What? Are you saying you don't like me anymore? You seemed interested enough earlier."

As one of her hands left his waist and caressed the side of his face, Kevin realized he had flirted with this woman earlier. She was the one who had excused herself to use the ladies room and never returned. She was the first one with black hair and the _Lancôme_ decadent plum Sensational Matte Color lipstick. The one who had no bag, just skintight black jeans and a very revealing silver sequin tank top.

"How about we go somewhere quiet, huh? I know just the place," she stated, letting go of his face to grab his right wrist. Then, keeping one arm firmly clasped around his waist, she flung his arm over her shoulder.

The sudden realization that this woman was the Kiss Then Tell Killer hit the undercover detective like a ton of bricks. She was not just someone who happened to match the vague police description of the murderer. It dawned on him that he must be under the influence of the killer rapist's drug of choice. Despite this, Kevin couldn't find the power to struggle against her. He simply staggered alongside her toward a side exit. She smelled a little like Jenny did that night they'd gone to a five-star restaurant to celebrate their third anniversary. Perfume, that's what it was; she was wearing the same perfume that Jenny had been wearing then. It was the one Jenny always got from her mother for her birthday every year. Whenever she thought her day needed a little extra luck Jenny would put on that perfume.

Slowly Kevin's mind drifted away from his fiancé. The implications of his current situation finally penetrated through the fog that clouded his mind. Fear jolted his being and ran down his spine. It was real - all too real. This realization was slowly followed by the awareness that she was leading him to one of the club's many side entrances. She easily repelled his weak attempts to pull away from her with a pathetic ease. And, as she tightened her hold on his right wrist, it became horrifyingly apparent to him that she'd effectively cut off all access to his microphone, the one thing that could alert the team of undercover officers and detectives to his plight.

"Let me go," Kevin tried to say, but it came out as an unintelligible mumble.

"Come on, Gorgeous, are you really saying you don't want me? I'll make it worth your while, I promise."

Gorgeous? No, that was wrong, just wrong. He was wrong - wrong for her. She liked her victims to be arrogant military personal. She liked them young. He was too old for her. Wrong. He was wrong. He didn't fit profile.

A sudden blast of cold air hit his face, shocking Kevin enough to arouse him to look up. Somehow they were already stepping through one of the club's side exits. All of the unalarmed exits were being closely monitored by club staff, which supervised how many people were in the club at any one time and to ensure that no one let their friends in through the exits. In addition, the NYPD had set up surveillance teams to also watch for any unusual activity. But who was keeping an eye on this exit? Kevin knew it wasn't Montgomery and Castle, they were monitoring the main entrance. Furrowing his brow the drugged detective tried to picture the operation's map that assigned everyone to specific places in and around the club. He then remembered that Detectives Cage and Logan from the Homicide Division at the 64th Precinct were on the side door leading toward this specific side ally. But would they recognize him and figure out what was going on?

Just as they reached the bouncer stationed outside the exit, Kevin realized that he didn't need to rely on the two detectives to help him. He could act for himself. Then, with all the strength he could muster, the Irish-man pushed away from the woman. He thought that if he could get free of her iron grip and alert someone to his plight; maybe then she would cut her losses and run away and, because they were still in a densely populated area of the club, she wouldn't try anything. Unfortunately, it turned out he was just too weak and the best he could do was cause the pair of them to stumble slightly sideways. With another burst of adrenaline, Kevin tried to ask the bouncer for help, but it came out a feeble slur.

The woman gripped him tighter, shifted more of his weight onto her shoulders, and smiled apologetically toward the man. "Sorry."

The bouncer gave her a sympathetic look before frowning and sending a disgusted sneer at Kevin. The Irish-man abruptly came to the realization that this was how the killer was able to get a grown man out of a heavily guarded club without much suspicion. After all, who would stop a concerned girlfriend from helping her boyfriend home after a night of too much alcohol? After stepping around the bouncer and into the cool night air, Kevin's mind cleared some more and he soberly glanced frantically toward the direction of Cage and Logan's car. Panic and fear coiled in his gut when no one in the car moved toward his aid. The lack of recognition and reaction was upsetting and disconcerting. Methodically, the woman turned them in the opposite direction of the detectives' vehicle and walked them towards the parking garage just a block away.

"_Is she wearing the right lipstick?_" Olivia's voice questioned over his earpiece.

Startled by the voice, Kevin remembered the microphone he had taped to his right wrist. Regrettably, that wrist was currently trapped in the rapist's hand. But she would have to release it sooner or later; he'd be able to call for help then. Hopefully by then Castle or Montgomery would realize his microphone was no longer projecting the cacophony of music from the inside of the club. After all, the loud noise had almost deafened them earlier in the evening when they had turned all the microphones turned up to full sensitivity.

"_Does she have the right hair color? I can't tell from here_," Olivia continued.

"_No, she's got blonde hair_," Beckett answered.

"Careful," the killer cautioned as he stumbled on the curb while crossing the street.

"Who," Kevin began slowly, trying to pronounce each sound in an intelligible manner. "You?"

"I knew you were a gentleman," she said with a sweet smile. "I'm not just another body to you, unlike those arrogant assholes."

It took Kevin a few seconds to realize that she hadn't actually answered his question. The drugged detective was starting to feel even weaker and his coordination was rapidly deteriorating. As they stumbled into the parking garage he realized if they didn't reach her car soon she would have to drag him to it. The image of a petite woman dragging him across the ground almost made him laugh. Smiling wistfully, he drunkenly looked at her. Under the strained, flickering fluorescent lights of the garage he found that she looked older than Beckett had originally profiled. In fact, she was closer to his age than that of her victims. The woman shifted her grip again to grab hold of a belt loop near his belt buckle. This intimate position of a stranger's hand sent another spike of fear down Kevin's spine. It was then that he recalled exactly what the killer did to her victims before murdering them.

Rape.

His mind was still fuzzy and the knowledge of what would transpire if he didn't get away seemed to be a far off and unreal nightmare. Luckily the killer had yet to discover his microphone or earpiece, but if she took off his shirt then she would find out that he was undercover. And who knows what she would do to an undercover detective. No effort had been made by the NYPD to cover up the wires trailing across his body. Even Javier's wires weren't hidden. Montgomery never planned to let the killer possibly undress her 'victim'.

By now Kevin's earpiece was silent again. The Irish-man couldn't help but wonder when Montgomery would next demand a check-in of all the undercover officers. In the mean-time, even if Kate or Olivia noticed he'd vanished from his table, they would merely assume he was checking on something or making another round on the dance floor, just as he had planned before he was drugged and dragged away by a serial killer.

They reached a silver car and she eased him toward its side so he was leaning against the vehicle while she fished her keys out of the pocket of her skinny black jeans. Because of his close proximity to the woman Kevin should have been able to get a good look at her face, but his vision kept fading in and out and all he saw was pair of brown eyes accented by purple and black make-up. Then it suddenly occurred to him that his right wrist was now free and he had access to the microphone in his sleeve, but calling for help now would only alert her of who he was.

With a beep, the car unlocked itself and the woman pulled the passenger side door open. She then turned back towards Kevin. He expected that she would try to maneuver him into the car so he gathered what little strength he had left and pushed away from the vehicle. Instead, she stepped close to him and his momentum carried him straight into her. Their bodies met, curves matching curves, flushed together for a brief moment before he bounced back against the car. Another surge of dread rushed through the Irish-man as he realized he was completely trapped. But the dread quickly morphed into disgust as the woman stepped even closer and, for the second time that night, cupped the side of his face with her hands.

Her eyes lovingly searched his before she said, "You really are different from the others. You don't think you deserve it…" She paused. "Deserve me, just because of who you are." The woman leaned in even closer and affectionately patted his cheek. "But don't worry, you'll like this."

Her lips covered his before he could protest. Too weak to turn his face away, Kevin closed his eyes and tried to ignore the passionate kiss. The detective's thoughts quickly went out to his fiancé. Jenny, poor Jenny. Would this be considered cheating? What would she think of him?

Suddenly his legs gave out from underneath him. The woman quickly pulled back from their kiss in order to catch him before he fell to the floor of the parking garage.

"Oops, I've got you, don't worry," she soothed. "It's probably best if we wait until we're alone before we start anything. We don't want to be interrupted, now do we?"

Two arms surrounded his torso and hoisted him up and awkwardly dumped him into the passenger seat of the car. She then leaned over his body and rearranged him to her liking. As she was reaching to snap his seatbelt in place Kevin caught another whiff of her perfume as her hair swung down around his face. The familiarity of the scent made him sick to his stomach. A sudden clash of images and emotions – love, fear, joy, horror, contentment, violation, Jenny, _her_ – flowed over him. Kevin's head spun dizzyingly as he clamored frantically, and in vain, away from the aroma of the perfume.

He had to get out of the car.

This one thought finally managed to reach him through his drugged mind. Out, he had to get out. Now. Before... before _it_ happened. Kevin shuddered at the thought. Thinking of a new strategy, he put all of his strength into moving his right arm. There was no way he would be able to remove seatbelt, open the door, and run away in his drugged state. Therefore he would have to rely on the team to rescue him. The woman seemed to have temporarily vanished and he knew he wouldn't get another chance to call for help without her noticing.

So he willed himself to talk into the microphone attached to his wrist.

But that was easier said then done, apparently. His arm finally responded to his frantic attempts to move it. It flopped uncontrollably towards the window where it smacked itself painfully against the glass. The pain helped, clearing the haze a little. Kevin tilted his head towards his wrist.

But what was he supposed to say? What was his distress word?

The team had come up with a new one for this specific undercover operation. So, what was it? He remembered Montgomery going over it in the briefing earlier that evening… Kevin furrowed his brow, his forehead wrinkling while he tried to remember. Scorpio? No, that was an old one from his days working in the Narcotics Division. So what was one for this operation? He couldn't remember. Everest? Nepal?

"Sc'pio," Kevin slurred. He frowned, that wasn't the word he was supposed to say.

"_What was that?_" Montgomery commanded over the earpiece. "_Who spoke?_"

Gritting his teeth in determination, Kevin tried to speak again but in a more understandable manner. "Scorpio."

"_Ryan? Is that you?_" Castle questioned, confusion lacing his voice.

Castle? Oh, that's right. He'd forgotten about Castle. He had forgotten how the writer had cajoled and pleaded until Beckett had relented and allowed him to sit in the van with the Captain during the operation.

"_Kevin, what's wrong?_" Kate inquired.

"Killer."

"_Killer? Where? You spotted her?_" Montgomery butted in.

"_Shit, no! That's not what he means_," Olivia exclaimed. "_Scorpio. That's what he said first: Scorpio. It's one of our distress words in Narcotics. Ryan, are you all right? Does anyone got eyes on him?_"

The sound of more voices quickly filled his ear. Kevin felt some relief despite the fearful chorus of negative replies that answered the female detective's inquiry. Montgomery was also talking again, frantically trying to reach Kevin.

"_Ryan, have you been drugged?_" Montgomery asked.

"Yeah," Kevin replied just as the driver's door opened. "Car."

"_What? What was that last one?_" the Captain pressed.

"_Fuck!_" Beckett swore. "_He's out of the club. I'm not detecting any music from his microphone._"

Then, suddenly, the rapist was back, plopping into the driver's seat and pulling the door shut behind her. She held a small rectangular piece of paper in her left hand – a parking receipt. And before Kevin could even react, she already had the key in the ignition and the started the engine.

"Let's get out of here, Gorgeous," she said.

"C... car," Kevin managed again, the last part getting partially stuck in his dry throat. He tried to moisten his lips but his body didn't want to respond to his brain.

"_Did you just say 'car'?_" Kate demanded, sharply. "_Are you in a vehicle?_"

"Yes, we're in a car," she the killer with a smile. "But don't worry, it's not too far. We'll be there soon."

She reached over and briefly squeezed his upper thigh before putting the car in reverse and backing out of the parking spot.

"_Beckett? What's the situation?_" Montgomery ordered.

"_Castle has enhanced the audio from Kevin's microphone and we're definitely picking up a woman's voice and the sound of an engine_," Kate replied.

Relief and fear overpowered the revulsion the rapist's touch had produced. The team was now aware of his situation, which was a good thing because his right arm had been knocked away when the vehicle had turned out onto the street. Kevin no longer had a way to contact anyone unless he wanted to alert the killer to the fact that he was wired. Dread was added to Kevin's mix of emotions because the team had only just started to search for him and the woman had said that it, wherever they were going, wasn't far away. Would they find him in time?

"_Kevin, are you still there?_" Olivia asked.

"_His microphone is still open,_" Castle replied after a moment of silence. "_I don't think it's been discovered._"

"_Okay, well, Kevin, if you can hear me, we're coming, you hear?_" Kate promised. "_Just you hold on. Everyone else, find that car!"_

Kevin's head haphazardly rolled from side to side with each turn the car took. There was nothing the vehicle to hold onto, not that he had the strength to do so anyway. The Irish-man began feeling worse and worse. He felt nauseous as the vertigo kicked in. Everything blurred before his eyes. Even if he still had access to his microphone he didn't think it would do him much good because he couldn't even distinguish a single landmark from the blur of lights and shadow that flashed through the windows. His tongue also felt thick and heavy in his mouth, like a dried up lump of flesh.

In a way, it reminded him of that time he was knocked out by Jerry Tyson, the 3XK killer, in that cheap motel. Back then too, after he had awoken, things had slowed and spun like a bad carnival ride. Then and now his head throbbed and felt like it was going to split in two. The darkness was closing in on him, threatening to sweep him under into a nothingness from which he wasn't sure he'd ever surface he had to; he had to make sure that Castle was okay, that Tyson hadn't hurt him in any way. To make sure he hadn't murdered him. But where was Kate? And Javi? Oh, right, they were busy, arresting the innocent 'accomplice', but they were wrong. They thought Tyson was a victim, but he was the killer. Tyson had taken his gun. His badge. His wallet. His phone. Tyson had hit him. No, Tyson had hit him and then taken his gun, badge, wallet, and phone. Or was it the other way around? He wasn't quite sure anymore, the head wound was muddling his mind.

Kevin felt a frisson of fear at the thought. He was being incapacitated! Where was Tyson? Had he gotten away? He seemed to remember that, but now he wasn't so sure… Perhaps he had come back? Then where was Castle? Had Tyson killed him? He was all confused. Then he was afraid. What was Tyson going to do with him? Kill him. Something clicked in his brain; that sounded familiar, murder. Tyson had hurt his other victims before strangling them. Was he going to kill him too? Was that why Tyson knocked him out? No! He didn't want that!

"Tyson?" Don slurred.

"Huh? What was that, Gorgeous?"

That wasn't Jerry Tyson. Tyson was male. This voice was female. So, she was definitely not Tyson.

"No' Tyson."

"What's a tyson?"

The voice was closer now; breath tickled his ear. Two slender arms encircled around his chest and under his armpits. Kevin was lifted out of the seat and stumbled forwards. That was funny; the detective didn't even remember the car stopping, or his door opening, or the seatbelt coming off… Someone dragged him away. Kevin wasn't sure how far or how fast he had walked before his body gave up. He tried to make his legs work and barely managed it just before he felt himself be gently pushed against a wall. A wall was good. He could lean on a wall. A wall was sturdy. Sturdy like that wall Jenny had leaned against while waiting for the table at the restaurant. The one they went to for their third anniversary - his fiancé and him. That had been a good wall. It was sturdy as Jenny leaned against it and when he leaned against Jenny, kissing her.

That night Jenny had smelled funny. Not nice like normal, but sweet. Like now. Now she smelled that sickly sweet smell too.

"Jenny?" Kevin asked, hopefully.

"If you want, Gorgeous."

That didn't sound like Jenny. Did it? Suddenly Kevin wasn't sure, maybe it _was_ Jenny and he was wrong. After all, everything else was funny - sight and sound and smell and him. He felt funny, strange. Not right. He was dizzy and his head hurt, his stomach hurt and everything was not right, not at all. So he was probably wrong and she was Jenny. Jenny must be right and he didn't want to hurt her feelings by saying she wasn't right.

Now there were lips kissing him and hands touching him - Jenny's lips and hands. Kevin allowed it even though he didn't feel well. Maybe Jenny could make it better. He should probably kiss her back, but he was sick. He didn't want her to get sick too. Then, frowning into another kiss, he tried to pull away.

"No, Jenny," Kevin accused, trying to focus on removing the lips and hands off his person.

"Sure, I'm Jenny," a voice, a very non-Jenny voice, replied. "Here, let me show you, Gorgeous."

"No."

Kevin felt the hands on his face. He didn't like it. He tried to push them away but found he couldn't. He couldn't lift his arms. He couldn't turn his head away from the hands.

"No!" Kevin protested again.

"Okay, no more kisses," the voice said. "We can do something else you'll enjoy. I promise, Gorgeous."

"Kevin."

The hands temporarily stopped moving. "What?"

"Kevin."

"Kevin? Is that your name?" A weak nod. "Okay, then, Kevin."

There was more, more to his name, but Kevin couldn't remember it just now. He didn't care either. Speaking was tiring and hard; he didn't want to speak anymore. He just wanted to sleep.

A petite, warm body grinded into Kevin, sandwiching him against the wall. Lips clashed against each other. The woman moaned in pleasure, her throat vibrating against his jaw line. Then, suddenly she was gone. There were no hands or body holding him up against the wall. Kevin's eyes widen slightly as he began to slide towards the floor. But, miraculously, two small hands fisted the front of his shirt and lifted him. And, with enough momentum, they pulled him away from the wall. The hands let go and he fell onto some unidentified, elevated soft surface.

The incapacitated Irish-man just laid still – not that he had much choice. His chest heaved with each breath. He closed his eyes, happy to be left alone. Maybe now he could sleep? But, before he got the chance to surrender to the much-desired darkness, a weight descended onto his body. A shrill giggle sounded somewhere above him as the woman straddled him. Pressure applied on his hips, thrusting downward as a pair of teeth nipped his neck. Cold hands worked at his belt buckle, unclasping it. But something felt weird. Kevin could put his finger on it but Jenny was never this aggressive. Something felt different. Jenny wouldn't be showing this much adoration in a strange place. Something felt wrong.

But her hands were back on his chest again, edging down to his waistline. "Let's get you out of these cloths."

The detective made a small noise in protest.

The hands untucked his shirt before sliding underneath. "Hush, Kevin, it'll feel real good soon, just you wa- What the hell is this?" she demanded sharply.

Then, before he could wonder why, she roughly grabbed at his shirt and ripped it open.

"Hey," Kevin protested feebly, taken aback by her forcefulness.

The soft, calm speech that had abruptly transformed into a harsh, steely voice confused Kevin. What was going on? Why was she mad now? She'd been mean earlier and then nice and now mean again. She was confusing. He didn't like her. He wanted her to go away and let him sleep. He wanted Jenny.

"Let me see this!" she demanded, ripping his blue, silk shirt off his right arm. The tearing noise was followed by a burning sensation that ran down the entire length of his arm. He felt the wire's comforting presence completely go away.

"No! Is this a microphone? Who is listening to this? Who do you work for?"

Her questions washed over him, it was too much to handle at once. Kevin really wanted to be left alone. He felt sick and he didn't like her. He wanted to get away from here. Where was Jenny? Had she abandoned him? Was she angry with him? Angry about the kiss? The kiss he'd given to this other woman? But he'd thought it was Jenny! He'd thought he was kissing her!

_Whack_!

Kevin's head snapped to the right. A horrible stinging sensation radiated off the left side of his face. It hurt. Had she hit him? He thought she had hit him. She was really mean.

"HEY! I asked you a question. Who do you work for?"

Didn't she know? How could she not know? Would she leave him alone if he told her? Kevin wasn't sure but he didn't want to speak. Speaking was hard and he was tired. So tired. And his head was ringing. Pounding. He just wanted it all to stop. He wanted to sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep. Sleep for a very long time.

Her hands were suddenly back on his face, turning it towards her. Kevin peered at her through the haze. All he saw was a blurry image of woman. Then, all hell broke loose. There was a deafening cracking noise followed by loud voices shouting strange words that seemed to startle her. She let go of his face and twisted around to face the source of the interruption. Her frustrated, startled scream added to the discord that had suddenly filled the room. He felt her presence being yanked off his body. She twisted and turned, trying to get away from the hands that grabbed her. One of her flailing feet painfully met the side of his face and, for the second time in a few short minutes, Kevin's head snapped to the right. Stars exploded in front of his eyes. His nausea was overpowering. His stomach rebelled. He turned and vomited over the side of the bed. The shouting and yelling grew louder and blended into an atrocious roar. Kevin's head throbbed. He moaned.

A voice rose above the cacophony. "Kevin? KEVIN!" This time the voice was male and strangely familiar. He didn't bother to answer it. Why wouldn't they just let him sleep? Was it really such a bad thing?

Then there were hands on him again, returning him to his back. The Irish-man made a faint protesting sound.

"Kevin, bro, are you okay?" the man demanded. "What did she do to you?"

Reluctantly, Kevin opened eyes – that's funny, he didn't remember closing them. He looked up and, through the slits of his eyes, he saw who was bothering him. It was a dark-haired Hispanic man who looked vaguely familiar. It was someone who made him feel safe. Because of this, he closed his eyes again. The man's hands continued to anxiously touch him. Chest, arms and face. It was as if he knew where _she_ had touched him. The man above him fiercely swore before gently touching the disturbed belt buckle. The hands, slight more frantic than before, briefly grappled with the top of his pants.

"Oh, thank goodness," the man sighed.

"Javi? Is he alright?" another new voice inquired.

This new voice was a female's. And, since it somewhat sounded like _her_, Kevin's eyes snapped back open and he tensed. He desperately tried to find the source of the new voice. His eyes rested upon a brown-haired beauty. She was different. She wasn't _her_.

"Yeah, he's fine. We got here in time. She got his shirt off and found the microphone. But that seems to be all."

Kevin let his eyes slip shut. It wasn't _her_. He was safe. He was determined to sleep now.

"Kevin? Kevin, bro, are you still with us?"

Kevin frowned slightly at the annoying noise. It was too much. He couldn't handle it anymore. He head was pounding. His body hurt. He felt sick. And, finally, Kevin got his wish; he slowly fell asleep and surrendered himself to the encroaching darkness.

* * *

Falling, falling, falling…

Kevin woke with a start, clutching the bed beneath him, breathing like he'd run a marathon. Adrenaline was flooding his system. He instantly panicked, not recognizing his surroundings. Antiseptic smell, beeping, small bed, gown... hospital. He was in a hospital. Instead of calming him, the realization only served to increase his panic. Why was he in a hospital? What had happened?

The beeping increased sharply, but Kevin ignored it as he tried frantically to remember what had happened to him. The last thing he could remember clearly was sitting in Montgomery's office while being debriefed for the operation designed to capture the Kiss Then Tell Killer. Beyond that, everything was a big blur of emotions, colors, and sounds jumbled into a horrible mash of contorting flashes. What had happened? Had something gone wrong? Was everyone okay? Why were things blurred and spotty?

Why? How? Why couldn't he remember?

"Kevin?"

Even worse than being unable to recollect what had happened to him and how he'd come to be here was the pure fear and helplessness that flooded him when he tried to force himself to remember.

"Kevin!"

A sudden slap across the face jarred Kevin from his thoughts. Reflectively, his hand reached up and grabbed the wrist of the person who'd hit him. Then he realized it was only Beckett.

"What?" Kevin asked, confused.

"Oh, good, you're with me now," Kate replied, relieved. "Sorry, but you spaced out and were starting to hyperventilate."

Kevin blinked a few times as he processed what his boss had just said. This time, when the beeping increased, he was abstemious enough to realize that it was his heart rate monitor. Looking up, he met Kate's worried eyes to assure her he was still with it. And, when he did, he noticed how tired and stressed she appeared.

But before he could comment about it, the door to the room opened and a nurse rushed in.

"What's going on in here?" the nurse demanded.

"He just woke and had a bit of an anxiety attack," the female detective explained.

The nurse seemed to calm somewhat at that, but clearly didn't like his still elevated heart rate as she looked over the machines attached to Kevin.

"You shouldn't be awake yet," she clucked.

"He's stubborn that way," Beckett stated with a fond smile.

"What happened?" Kevin asked, unable to wait any longer.

The anxiety of _not knowing_ nearly bordered on outright panic. Kevin really hated being unable to remember, especially when the confused, fragmented memories he did have clearly indicated that something important had transpired. He was also starting to get an inclination that something serious had occurred. A haunting suspicion entered the back of his mind. Given their killer's penchant for drugging and raping her male victims and his current inability to remember how or why he'd ended up in the hospital...

The beeping increased sharply as Kevin fought for breath and to stave off his rising fear.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," the nurse stated. "You need to rest right now. You don't need any additional stress."

"No, what he needs is the truth," Kate argued. "Otherwise this scene will repeat itself the next time he wakes."

"I don't like it. I think a sedative would be the best thing for him right now."

"You don't know him," Beckett persisted. "He does better with more information, not less. Besides, you said he shouldn't be awake yet anyway. Should you really be giving him another sedative while whatever else you gave him is still in his system?"

"Beckett!" Kevin interrupted. "What happened? Something went wrong, didn't it? With the undercover operation."

"Yes," Kate confirmed, suddenly sounding very reluctant.

"Is everyone else okay? Javi?"

"Everyone else is fine, including Javier. The killer didn't go for him."

Then it dawned upon him. "She came for me," Kevin inferred.

His tone was emotionless as snatches of memory flashed before his eyes. He had a vague recollection of a woman's touch and voice. Had he been stumbling? It could be she'd held true to her usual M.O. and drugged him. It was how she'd gotten all of her previous victims out of the clubs they'd been in, by pretending they were hopelessly drunk and she was merely the concerned girlfriend lugging them home.

Oh God, victim. He was a victim!

"Rohypnol. She spiked my drink, didn't she?"

"Yes, she did," Kate stated, continuing on quickly. "But you kept it together long enough to alert the others as to what was going on. Using the signal from your microphone and the sounds we picked up from it, the team was able to pinpoint your location. Everyone got to you in time, before she could do anything."

The relief that flooded him was indescribable. Kevin sank back against the pillows, smiling weakly at Kate as she leaned forwards to look at him, clearly alarmed. The nurse seemed happy, though, as his heart rate slowed further, back towards normal.

"I'll go let the doctor know you're awake," she told Kevin before turning towards Beckett. "Try and keep him calm."

Kate scowled at the nurse's back as Kevin tried desperately to remember exactly what had happened to him. Even if she hadn't managed to rape him, he _needed_ to know the details of what had transpired. How had she managed to spike his drink? Why hadn't he noticed? Had he tried to resist her? Beckett said he'd contacted the others, so obviously he'd realized what was going on, which explained the fear he recollected. As it was, he could only imagine what had been going through his mind at the time. He'd have been both powerless to prevent her from doing whatever she wanted to him.

"Hey, hey, Kevin," soothed Kate as his heart rate rose once more. "It's okay, you're safe, nothing happened."

"How long?"

Silence.

"How long have I been here?"

"Almost a full day."

Kevin was stunned that he had been unconscious for so long. Jenny must be worried. Jenny. Why did he seem to have a trace of her in his jumbled thoughts? Had she been there?

"Where's Jenny?" Kevin questioned. "Is she here?"

"She getting some coffee from the cafeteria**.** Castle called her on the way to the hospital," explained the female detective. "Why? Do you want me to go get her?"

The Irish-man nodded. So, with his confirmation, Beckett quickly stepped out of the room to search for his missing fiancé. It was odd. Why did Kevin remember Jenny? She couldn't possibly been there… could she?

But, before he could dwell on that thought, Becket returned with, not only his fiancé, but also Esposito and Castle as well.

"Oh, honey!" Jenny exclaimed, quickly rushing to Kevin's bedside. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess."

"We were so worried!"

Everyone in the room nodded in agreement.

"It's weird," Kevin began. "I just have this feeling... well, more like impression, of you…that you were there last night. Damn it! I can't remember! I just can't seem to get it all straight in my head, even the bits I do have!"

"That's the drug," Castle piped up. Kevin turned his head to look at the writer. "Rohypnol causes anterograde amnesia, you know that. You could still get back your memory, later on that is."

"I know. It's just so frustrating!" Kevin replied, a bit embarrassed with how his emotions seemed to be all over the place.

"I understand," Jenny reassured, smiling fondly down at him.

Kevin could only look at her in surprise for a few seconds, touched again by how well she knew him and how deeply she cared. Unable to voice it, he merely nodded his head, squeezing her hand gently. Unexpectedly, he had another flash of memory. Only instead of a visual, it was tactile. He could feel hands ghosting over his face and chest. Chills swept through him as he realized not all of the touches to his chest were through fabric; some of them were skin to skin. His grip on Jenny tightened as he fought off the rising panic. Beckett said the team had gotten to him in time, that nothing had happened. He knew she wouldn't lie to him about that. But still...

"Kate, when... when they found me..."

"Yes?"

"Nothing happened?"

Beckett hesitated for a second but replied nonetheless. "She had ripped off your shirt, but that was probably a good thing."

"What? How?"

Castle interrupted, "In doing so, she discovered that you were wired, which served to distract her for the final few minutes that Montgomery and the others needed to find you."

Shit. She'd removed his shirt and… touched him. Kevin swallowed and suppressed a shudder at the thought. He tried to rationalize away his feelings. If Castle was right, then he really couldn't complain, could he? After all, he was always bare-chested when he went to the beach and even enjoyed the appreciative looks he got when doing so. But the touch... it made his skin crawl to think of the killer touching him and even the half remembered touches caused a wave of disgust crash over him.

Jenny must have sensed his inner turmoil as she leaned forwards to hug him. Kevin reached forwards almost desperately, wanting to feel the safety of her arms. But then, unexpectedly, images and emotions slammed into him. Hysteric, Kevin shoved her away unthinkingly, gasping as he scrambled for control of his feelings. Fear, disgust and helplessness welled up inside of him along with flashes of light, traces of a sickly sweet smell and, of all things, an image of himself and Jenny at their third anniversary dinner.

"Kevin? KEVIN!"

This time, Kate's voice did manage to break through the rising panic. But Jenny's worried cries joined the ones of the detective. Kevin used those voices to help himself focus on the present. As he did so, the incessant beeping decreased to a more manageable level as he got his breathing under control as well. Focusing on Jenny, he got himself to calm down some more, silently telling himself, over and over, that it was done, finished. The team had rescued him and... wait, Kate had never said anything about the killer herself.

"Did they get her?" Kevin asked.

"Yes, we did," Javier declared.

Kevin's head turned to look at his partner.

"Montgomery and Olivia are having another go at her now."

Kevin nodded. He was relieved that she wouldn't harm anyone ever again, including himself.

"What just happened?" Jenny inquired uncertainly, referring to his most recent panic attack.

He nearly flinched as he thought about how he'd shoved her aside, but Kevin was pleased that she instantly took his hand when he reached for her.

"Your perfume, I think," Kevin explained, a little uncertain himself.

"Let me," Esposito said, stepping closer to Jenny and taking a sniff. "Yup, that's the same perfume Cecilia Lancer was wearing."

"You mean-" Jenny began, horrified.

Castle nervously cleared his throat. "They do say smell is the most powerful memory trigger."

"Oh God, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, it wasn't your fault," Kevin soothed, tugging at her hand. "C'mere."

Instead of complying, Jenny resisted, shaking her head. "No, it'll just trigger another flashback and then the nurse will kick me out."

"No, it won't. I know to expect it now. Before you just caught me unaware."

When she still hesitated Kevin tugged a bit harder until she caved, leaning forwards him once more. When she got closer, he turned his head away so his face rested on her shoulder, facing away from her neck. It felt surprisingly good just to hold her and be held by her. He allowed himself a few moments to simply enjoy the feeling despite their audience. Given the circumstances, he figured Beckett, Castle, and Esposito would understand and, if not, he could always blame it on the drugs.

"Well, now I have an excuse to go perfume shopping."

The statement startled a laugh out of Kevin. He loved Jenny for trying to lighten the mood somewhat.

"What happened?" Kevin demanded again, sounding like a broken record. Jenny slowly pulled away, though she maintained her grip on his hand.

"Well, it's all still in the early stages, but it would appear that Lancer's husband was in the armed forces and was brutally attacked and killed by fellow soldiers," Esposito explained. "Apparently they believed he was gay for some reason and sodomized him."

"A hate crime?" Jenny questioned in disbelief. "All of this traces back to a hate crime?"

"Apparently."

"So, what, she decided to take her revenge on other members of the armed forces?" Kevin inquired.

"She said something to the effect that 'all of those arrogant bastards are the same' and that 'they deserved what was coming to them'. She claims she merely gave them a dose of their own medicine and prevented them from harming other honest and hardworking soldiers."

"Okay, I can see how she might have twisted things around to that point of view, but that still doesn't explain what happened last night. Why did she target me? I wasn't acting anything like her previous victims, nor was I wearing anything to suggest that I could be military." Kevin inquired.

"It seems our setup was originally going to work," Javier began. "She admits to having had her eye on me."

"What changed?" Jenny asked.

"She caught sight of Kevin when I made my way to the bar. Apparently, Kevin, you remind her quite a bit of her husband."

"She wanted to rape her husband?" Kevin inquired, incredulous.

"No, not rape," Jenny corrected. "Recreate. That's it, isn't it?"

"Yes," Esposito replied, startled. "Castle seems to think her mind twisted reality so much that it wouldn't have been rape with you. You were her husband's substitute and thus you would be willing."

"She's probably going to get off on an insanity plea," Kate stated, anger leaking into her voice.

The Irish-man shrugged. "It sounds like she is. So how exactly did I remind her of her husband?"

"She seemed to fixate on your eyes," Esposito said. "From the photo we have of him, your eyes are kind of similar, but beyond that there's not much you have in common except for both being in good physical condition."

"So, then what was it?"

When Javier shifted uneasily Castle came to his aid. "Your, eh, aura of authority and, eh, power. Apparently." The writer smirked slightly at the next statement. "She kept going on and on about how you were strong and a leader. Esposito calls it an alpha male thing. Colonel Lancer was one too, based on his record."

"Alpha male?" Kevin blinked slowly, trying to wrap his head around the concept. "She thought I had the aura of a leader." He grinned. "Beckett, you had better watch out or else I might get your job."

"You wish!" Kate replied.

"Yeah," Javier added. "If anything, you're the baby of the group. I have no idea why she saw you as an alpha male."

"Maybe she just realized my true potential."

His partner raised an eyebrow. "This is a mentally ill rapist we are talking about."

A hurt look quickly replaced the smile that was on Kevin's face.

"Enough," Beckett chastised.

Silence filled the room.

Esposito uncomfortably shifted from foot to foot before speaking again. "Well, there's more…"

"And?" Kevin demanded.

Javier hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Jenny. "Well, she said she liked how you looked almost exclusively at the faces of the... uh... women you... flirted with, instead of looking at their breasts."

Jenny gripped his hand more tightly. "Flirted with?" she asked.

Kevin stiffened slightly at his fiancé's words. How could he forget all the women that approached him. He remained silent, ignoring Jenny's question all together. But then there was another flash of memory and he looked up sharply at the writer.

"Did you call me a dog?"

"Ah, yeah," Castle admitted, reluctantly. "Don't worry, Olivia already told me they'd all approached you and you were merely maintaining your cover. She said we probably shouldn't have gotten you those leather pants."

"Leather pants?" Jenny questioned. "Wait, did Kate and Lanie dress you for the operation?"

"They were in charge of ensuring everyone was dressed appropriately to blend in," Kevin explained quickly. "Including me." He looked over at Kate. "So, this Cecilia Lancer liked that I didn't treat all those women objectively."

"Yes. Combined with the rest of your… ah, qualities, it was enough to make her decide to change her plans despite having the perfect victim laid out before her."

"Great," Kevin sank back against the pillows wearily. "Treat women poorly and you're considered a pig, but treat them properly and you attract a murderer's attention. You just can't win these days, can you?"

"That's what happens when you let men run things. Put us in charge and you might get some better options," Beckett said.

"Or how about I just avoid nightclubs?"

"You didn't like the music, did you?" Jenny inquired with a small smile.

"I don't recall any music, just noise blasted out at deafening levels," Kevin replied.

Just then the door to the room opened and a doctor walked in. "Ah, Detective Ryan. It's good to see you awake. But Nurse Jackie tells me you a had a panic attack when you woke up."

The Irish-man nodded, slightly embarrassed.

Glancing down at the chart in his hand, the doctor commented, "Well, that's to be expected due to the massive amounts of Rohypnol is your system. I plan on keeping you at least overnight for observation." Looking back up at Kevin, he asked, "Are you aware of the side effects of Rohypnol?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Alright," he said, snapping the chart closed. "I'm just going to give you a quick once over and then let you rest."

Next, addressing the rest of the crowd in the room, the doctor declared, "Visiting hours are over, people. You can check with the nurse at the front desk when you can come back tomorrow."

Kevin spoke up, "Can my fiancé stay?"

"Yes, immediate family members may stay the night."

"Thank you."

Slowly, everyone but Jenny started to trail out of the room. A chorus of "Get well" and "See you tomorrow" lingered long after the room emptied. Eventually the doctor finished its exam and also left. Then it was just Kevin and Jenny. Together. Lying on the small hospital bed, fingers intertwined. Alone at last.

Kevin welcomed the silence and the warm embrace. The anxieties that he first experienced upon waking seemed to melt away. Before finally falling asleep he turned his head slightly and planted a chaste kiss on his beloved's forehead.

"_I love you._"

It was all he needed to say, and it was all he said.

* * *

_A/N: _**WOW! It feels so good to finally get this off my computer where it has been sitting for the past six months waiting to be edited.**

**Now, I have three more story ideas that I want to write for the **_**Castle**_** universe. The only problem is I don't know which one to write next. Therefore I need your help! Please vote on which story I should write next in the comments/reviews.**

**Option #1: **Kevin Ryan Whump (A to Z) – starts when he is an officer and continues on as he becomes a detective in narcotics, undercover in the mob, and a detective in homicide.

**Option #2: **Kevin Ryan is the Judas in the homicide division. While Kate and Javier are suspended, Kevin has a rough time with all the other cops. While being ignored and neglected he gets seriously hurts on the job.

**Option #3: **Season 2, Episode 9 - "are you looking at porn?" "No I use Ryan's computer for that." What if someone discovered porn on Kevin's computer and it led to a suspension and investigation. One-shot. "You know IA checks browser history."

**Please vote and let me know which on you want to read next!**

**I hope you enjoyed my short story. Please review!**


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